


Come the Morning

by sarai377



Series: Sleeping Soundly [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-08
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-25 00:38:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4939969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarai377/pseuds/sarai377
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where Lucina is never born, Chrom and Robin struggle to stop Grima. Takes place after Valm. (Spoilers for most of the game, including the Endgame)<br/>Sequel to Sleeping Soundly.  M!Robin/Chrom</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back, I hope! So this is the sequel to Sleeping Soundly – but you don’t have to read that one to understand what’s happening here. I was thinking about how screwed up the future was going to be after finishing Sleeping Soundly, and I had to write about it.  
> For anyone that cares, I imagine the end of Sleeping Soundly happened about nine or ten months prior to the start of this story.

**Chapter 1**

_“I’ll be the guard dog of all your fever dreams.”_

_At first, it didn’t hurt –_ _just a feeling of wrongness, deep within his chest. Chrom staggered back from Robin, watching as the scarlet lights in the back of Robin’s eyes cleared out, and panic set in._

_There was a buzzing, sizzling noise vibrating through his body, and he looked down in surprise._

_As soon as he saw the lightning bolt deep within his chest, it started aching. He caught a shallow breath, and his body throbbed and burned in response to the magic. Robin had frozen, staring at Chrom in wide-eyed horror._

_His body felt cold and heavy._

_“This is not your… your fault,” Chrom said, and tried to step toward Robin. He put a hand out, but his vision darkened before he could get to him. He vaguely felt his legs collapse beneath him as he fell to the floor._

 

Chrom sat up with a gasp, and then grit his teeth as the healing wound burned like a red hot poker was being shoved into him. Chrom drew shallow breaths and sat as still as he could, pressing his fingers gently against the bandage wrapped around his bare torso. Lissa had healed it shortly after the battle at the Table that afternoon, but she could only do so much for the deep wound.

As he calmed himself, the vividness of the dream-memory faded somewhat. He’d survived it, and he and Robin had come through that whole endeavor alive. Barely.

It was dim in the tent, but he could still see Robin shifting beside him.

Chrom shivered, the sweat on his skin cooling in the chill air. Most of the blankets were hanging off the cot on Robin’s side.

"Nngh... no, don't..." Robin whispered, and twisted. The blankets shifted further, and Robin shivered in his sleep.

Chrom looked down at Robin with concern. He wasn’t used to Robin having nightmares anymore – they had gone away completely back in Valm, when Robin started sharing Chrom’s bed.

His heartbeat pounded in his head as he gently shook Robin's shoulder, but the smaller man didn’t rouse. Despite the shivering, Robin’s body was warm – almost too hot.

Chrom leaned carefully over to the table, and unshuttered the lantern. Light flooded the tent, casting shadows across scattered paperwork and the low cot where they slept. Robin had wanted to work late into the night, but Chrom had insisted that he sleep after the day’s traumatic events. 

Robin shifted toward Chrom and the rest of the blankets glided down to the floor. Chrom's signet ring turned into the light, glittering blue and silver on Robin's finger. Sweat beaded on Robin’s forehead. Chrom ran his fingers beneath those white bangs, flipping them temporarily out of the way. His skin was hot and clammy.

"No, I won't..." Robin turned his head toward Chrom, breathing heavy like he had just run across camp. His brown eyes were partially open, but he wasn't seeing their shared tent. That vacant, pained stare burned through Chrom, and he shook him a little harder this time. 

"Robin," Chrom hissed. "Wake up." 

For an instant, Chrom swore he saw that scarlet light dance through Robin's eyes again, and then his awareness returned to them. 

Robin blinked up at Chrom, panting, and then raised himself up on an elbow and moved quickly to Chrom’s shoulder. Robin’s body was so warm even through the shirt that it hurt Chrom's cold skin, but he clutched Robin tight to him anyway. He leaned down and pressed his lips against Robin's hair, offering what comfort he could. Robin shuddered against him, struggling to clear the nightmare from his head.

"It's okay," Chrom soothed, his pulse slowing. For the past week, since Robin had been forced by his father to take the Fire Emblem from Chrom, his smile had all but disappeared… and now the nightmares were coming back. Chrom was going to keep a closer eye on him from now on, lest some of Robin’s old habits start sneaking back.

"What did you see?" Chrom asked, although he thought he knew. In spite of his concern, he had to stifle a yawn, and his eyelids were heavy and hard to keep open.

Robin was silent for so long that Chrom wasn't expecting an answer, and when he did speak, it was with a strained voice.

"I... I saw Grima, in my dreams. He was calling for me to join him." A tear hit Chrom's shoulder and slowly dripped down, cooling against his skin. Another one joined it as Robin admitted, "I’m scared."

Chrom thought about what Robin said for a moment. He was afraid of Grima too, but he was also ready for this whole ordeal to be over. 

"It’s okay, Robin," he whispered, running his hand comfortingly over the smaller man’s pale hair. "You didn’t kill me today. You didn’t join with your father, and we took the Emblem back. No matter what, we won’t be going into the same future that Owain and the others came from. We will defeat the Fell Dragon and change the future."

To his own ears, the words sounded hollow and childish, rather than brave. He didn’t believe them, not entirely… How could they truly defeat a god?

"You really think so?" Robin's voice was small. 

He couldn't lie to Robin. "Sometimes, I don't know. I want to believe." 

Robin gave a harsh chuckle. "In some ways, that's more comforting." 

"I _know_ we can change the future." Chrom touched Robin's shoulder, and pulled back enough so that he could see Robin’s face. Those haunted eyes stared at him as Robin hung on Chrom’s words. He sighed. "I just don't know if it will be enough."

Robin looked from one eye to the other, and bowed his head. Chrom wasn’t sure if his words were helping or hurting, but Robin seemed a little calmer now. "Thank you." 

"I love you, no matter what." Chrom kissed his forehead.

They sat quietly together for a few moments, and then Chrom leaned over to dim the light. He hissed as he stretched the wound, his hand moving to his chest.

“Wait, I’ll get it.” Robin rose onto his knees, teetering over Chrom for a moment. As Robin shuttered the lantern, Chrom had a good long look at his face, and recognized the emotion in his tired eyes. Robin gave Chrom a forced smile when he noticed him staring, and then the room plunged into darkness.

Chrom lay down wearily, keeping a hand on Robin’s knee to guide him back. Robin climbed gently over him, settling in against his side, and rearranged the blankets over both of them. As his lover’s body eased against him, it felt easy to drift into the exhaustion that hovered just beyond his closed eyes… but Chrom felt he had to address that emotion he’d seen. He couldn’t leave it to fester.

“Robin,” he whispered.

“Mmm?” Robin shifted a leg against his. His body had cooled off some, or Chrom’s had risen in temperature.

Chrom said, “I don’t want you feeling guilty for what happened today.”

He could practically feel the frown on Robin’s face, even though he couldn’t see it. He knew Robin well enough to tell he was mulling it over.

Finally, Robin sighed. “Okay… I will try to let it go.”

“Thank you.” Chrom smiled, and pulled Robin closer.

Robin drew in a deep breath, and shifted so the bridge of his nose was pressed against Chrom’s jaw. A little flutter of eyelashes against his skin told him that Robin had opened his eyes. “I love you too, Chrom. I don’t want to lose you… and that was a little too close, today.”

“I understand,” Chrom said. There was nothing else to say. He agreed with Robin – it had been much too close. An inch or two up his body, and that bolt would have pierced his heart.

With that discomforting thought in his head, he drifted back into sleep.

~*~

Robin left their bed and a still-sleeping Chrom at first light, wrapping his cloak around himself. He tied the tent flap firmly shut behind him to keep the draft out. Even though he would probably be scolded for it, Robin decided to let Chrom sleep. The prince needed to recover, and to conserve his strength for the coming trials.

The morning was cold, a chill in the air, and wispy clouds of fog hung around the quiet camp. Robin didn’t expect to see many people up and about yet. They had retreated back to camp after the events at the Table, and Robin had informed everyone that today would be a rest-day. The battle yesterday had been brutal, and there had been casualties. They had “won”, technically - Validar was dead and Robin had recovered the Fire Emblem - and yet it felt like they had failed.

Pieces of yesterday echoed back to him as he walked. _“You are destined to a greater purpose. You are to be a god.”_ A god - he couldn’t believe it… but he’d felt that power surge through him. It would have been so easy to just give into it, to allow it to overwhelm him… to kill Chrom instead of holding back the full force of the magic at the last instant.

He shuddered, and exhaled. _“You were supposed to choose godhood over your pathetic band of servants.”_

But he hadn’t. He held onto that thought. He had chosen his companions over godhood, and would continue to do so.

Robin couldn’t help that a piece of himself resonated with that darkness, with the great, terrifying dragon that was now flying around the world. When he closed his eyes, he could sense it, and that link terrified him. Part of him had _wanted_ to kill Chrom… and he wouldn’t forget or forgive himself that, no matter what Chrom asked of him.

One look at the bandage on Chrom’s chest as he slept this morning had cemented that thought.

Robin ducked into his cloak a little more, and his feet quickened their pace to the dining tent. He tightened his hand and felt the sharp edges of the ring on his finger – the promise he and Chrom had made to each other.

A fire was set up outside the dining tent, near the wide entrance, and two orange-haired men were huddled before it. They looked up at his approach.

“Mornin’, Bubbles.” Gaius, for once not eating candy, shifted over to let Robin in beside him. At one point Robin had actually been embarrassed by the nickname, but now it hardly fazed him.

"A fine morning to you, Robin," Owain said, with a flourish.

Robin eyed the young man, and shook his head. "It's too early for your cheer. Where's the coffee?" 

Gaius grimaced. "There isn't any yet. Sumia burned the whole batch." 

"Burned... the coffee?" Robin pressed the heel of his hands into his sore eye sockets. The pressure brought faint sparkles to his vision, and he sighed. _Maybe I should just return to bed_.

He was exhausted – nightmares had plagued him most of the night, even after Chrom had tried to reassure and soothe him. Robin recognized, distantly, that he was weary of campaigning, of directing the army. They had returned not two weeks earlier from a hard-earned victory in Valm, and now, before they could catch their breath… Grima was alive and flying free across the world. 

“I can’t deal with this without coffee.” He turned, ready to retreat to Chrom’s bed.

It was a rest-day, after all – he may as well try to rest.

"Wait, Robin!" Owain said, moving from his father's side to catch Robin's arm. There was urgency in his tone. "We haven't heard your plans yet. What will we do now?" 

As Owain moved, a familiar hilt came into view from beneath his arm. Robin’s stomach tightened at the reminder of what he had almost done. If Chrom had died yesterday, Falchion would have gone to his next blood relative, which would have been Owain.

If Chrom had died yesterday… Robin probably wouldn’t care who got his sword.

Drawing himself together, he said, “We will rest and recover for today… but we’re headed for Mount Prism. I’m hoping to depart tomorrow.”

Owain’s eyes widened. “For the Awakening? So soon? But, isn’t it swarming with Risen-”

Apparently, he’d been nearby last night when Robin heard the scouting reports.

Robin interrupted him. “It doesn’t matter. We have to go there first. The Awakening is our best chance to defeat Grima.”

Robin found comfort in admitting his fears and doubts to Chrom, privately, but with the rest of the army he had to appear confident. He hoped he was projecting calm assurance, but feared that they could see right through him.

Owain recovered somewhat from his surprise. “To defeat Grima…yes, we must do whatever it takes. My sword hand… it twitches!” He brought his right hand up to his face and adopted a stern expression.

Gaius rolled his eyes, and caught his son’s forearm, forcing it down. “Calm down, Owain. Plenty of time to get worked up over this tomorrow.”

Owain scowled at his father. “My blood calls for the deaths of our enemies! And, we must be ever vigilant…”

With a sigh, Gaius threw his hands up. “Where _is_ that coffee?”

As Robin listened to Owain explain the virtues of his bloodline’s power to his exasperated father, Validar’s disdainful voice surfaced in his mind again. _“Human bonds are leaves in the wind. They offer you nothing.”_

He clenched his fists tight. He had Chrom. He had sturdy companions that he could trust, and that was worth more than power.

“Father?”

Robin turned at the soft voice. Even in his somber mood, the sight of the girl’s pale pink hair and deeply-tanned skin brought a smile to his face.

He had Morgan, too.

His adopted daughter moved up beside him and tucked her shoulder beneath his arm in a quick hug. “I thought I heard your voice,” she said, and gave him a faint smile.

Morgan wasn’t Valmese, but Chrom had rescued her from a village in Valm. She knew nothing of her parents and family, and had begged to come along with the Shepherds when they left the village. Chrom, never one to turn away anyone in need, had welcomed her along. She’d taken to following Robin or Chrom around whenever she could, even into battle.

Eventually someone - Lissa, if he remembered correctly - jokingly called her their daughter. It had stuck, and he and Chrom had adopted the clever girl.

Morgan was wearing a thin long-sleeved shirt in blue, and he belatedly noticed her shivering.

“Where’s your jacket?” he asked, and quickly untied his cloak. He shrugged out of it and set it around her small shoulders, trying to ignore his own chill.

“Thanks,” she said, pulling the dark cloak around her. The golden cuffs covered her hands completely. “It’s drying – I got blood all over it, helping Noire yesterday.”

Robin chafed his hands on his bare forearms, and stepped a bit closer to the fire.

“How’s Dad doing?” Morgan pressed her lips together, watching him with those large, expressive eyes.

Robin’s jaw clenched at the pain and fear on her face. “Chrom’s recovering well. He should be up and about soon.”

Morgan gave a hesitant smile. “Good, I’m glad to hear.”

On his other side, Owain and Gaius relaxed, and it was apparent to Robin they were relieved by his answer as well. Robin made a mental note to make sure Chrom was seen around camp today. If Owain and Gaius were concerned about Chrom after hearing about his condition from Lissa, the rest of the Shepherds would be even more worried.

“I’m so sorry about the coffee, Gaius!” a female voice came from inside the tent. Sumia moved carefully into view, holding a steaming hot kettle in each hand. “Here, this should be…” she trailed off, her eyes wide, as Robin moved to her side to take one of the heavy kettles from her.

“Robin!” she exclaimed. “You’re up early… How is Chrom today?”

“Fine,” he said, carefully guiding her to the table and settling his kettle on the thick mat. The bitter, sharp scent of freshly brewed coffee drifted up to his nose, and the smell soothed away some of the queasiness in his stomach.

To appease Sumia’s still-nervous look, he forced an easy smile. “He’s healing nicely. I’m sure he will be up and about today.”

She sighed. “Good… I’ll let Frederick know.”

Robin poured the dark liquid into mugs and handed them around to everyone except Morgan. As he did, he ran through the casualties and injuries from the prior day in his mind. His fingers clutched the worn ceramic mug, and warmth drifted up his arms.

“Sumia, I take it Frederick is feeling better today?” Frederick had broken his lower leg in two places after his horse was critically wounded. The Shepherds would never have asked Sumia to handle breakfast if he was seriously injured.

She nodded and took a sip. “Yes, much. He wanted to get up and tend the fires this morning, but I told him someone else would take care of that. Cynthia is watching him now.”

They discussed the other injuries around camp for a few minutes, avoiding the deaths, and when Robin finished his first cup, he went back to the kettle to pour some for Chrom.

“Come on, Morgan,” he said, handing his daughter Chrom’s mug. “Let’s go wake Chrom up.”

“Tell Blue to rest up,” Gaius said, and Sumia nodded agreement.

As they walked away from the breakfast tent, Robin caught a glimpse of Morgan’s frowning face. He wondered what she was thinking about.

In the months since they’d adopted her, she had become an important part of his life – of both their lives. Robin guessed she was twelve or thirteen years old, which made her younger than most of the children who had come from the future. None of the other children remembered her from the future, but they had taken her in as one of their own regardless.

Robin hoped it meant that the future had been altered beyond all reckoning. But in his darker thoughts, he wondered if Morgan was going to die, or worse… if she had sided with Grima after he killed Chrom.

The thought felt like a lightning bolt through his heart – tingly and sharp.

“Are you alright, Morgan?” he asked, and she jumped a bit in surprise.

“I’m glad you and Dad are okay,” she whispered, and the coffee spilled from her shaking hands. Her eyes filled with tears, and she stopped walking.

An overwhelming desire to protect her flooded him, even as he realized the futility of trying.

He took her mug and wrapped his arms around her shaking shoulders, and she rested her head against his chest. She swiped at the tears with one cuff of his cloak.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and stepped back. “Yesterday… I was so scared you were both going to leave me.”

“I’m here now,” Robin said, and impulsively continued, “I won’t leave you, Morgan.” Immediately, he wanted to snatch the words back. It was almost a defiant slap in the face of fate.

He shouldn’t promise he would be there for her, not in these uncertain times, with the Fell Dragon on the loose. All he had to offer was that very moment, and the comfort of family.

Her face brightened, the innocence of youth still with her even as she fought and killed, and he didn’t have the heart to recant his statement. Tomorrow, he decided, he would have to explain to her that death was inevitable, that he or Chrom might die… but today he would let her hold on to that faith for a little longer.

Instead, he said, “Come on, let’s go before the coffee gets cold.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s some NSFW content in this one.

Chapter 2

_“I’m still comparing your past to my future, it might be your wound but they’re my sutures.”_

 

Chrom rubbed at his eyes as he sat on the edge of the cot. Even though he’d slept, he didn't feel rested. The wound twinged and ached, and he put a hand to the bandage, fighting the urge the scratch at it.

Robin was not in bed with him when he awoke, but he wasn’t surprised. He was used to his tactician keeping odd hours. What was surprising was that he wasn’t at the table, absorbed in planning. Chrom frowned at the empty stool, and hoped that Robin wasn’t off somewhere, dwelling on what had happened and what they had learned. He feared he didn’t have the energy to go chasing after Robin today.

"Chrom, are you awake?" A soft voice came from outside the tent.

"Come in, Lissa," Chrom called, and she entered, staff in hand.

At five months along, she was visibly pregnant. He'd had concerns about letting her come to the Table with them, but as Robin had pointed out, they needed healers too badly to force her to stay back in Ylisse. And now, with Grima on the loose, the safest place for her was probably with the army.

Maribelle had reassured Chrom that using regular magic had no impact on the unborn child (dark magic was a different story, as Noire could attest), and Owain had turned out relatively normal. But Chrom still didn’t like it.

"How are you doing today, Chrom?" She smiled at him, as she sat on the cot. Her hand went to her stomach almost absently as she set her staff on the bed behind them.

"Fine. It itches." Chrom started to shrug but then aborted the motion before it stretched the wound.

"That's good... it means it's healing." Her fingers found the end of the bandage and started rolling it back. He winced as the gauze came off, peeling away from the tender flesh beneath. Low morning sunlight filtered through the tent fabric, but it was still fairly dim inside.

"It's doing much better," Lissa said, reaching out and unshuttering the lantern. "See all the pink around the edges?”

Chrom inspected it. He had been rather out of itwhen Lissa had healed him the last time, but he could indeed see the pink tissue she pointed out. It looked bad, but he trusted Lissa – she seemed calm, not panicked as she had been yesterday.

“Let’s see what we can do with it today,” Lissa said, and the end of her staff started glowing as she focused. He closed his eyes as the tingle of healing magic brushed against the wound, uncomfortable but necessary.

“Oh, Dad!” A soft gasp came from the tent flap. Chrom looked up at a shocked Morgan, wrapped in Robin’s too-large cloak. Her hand was pressed over her mouth, and she was staring right at the exposed wound. She ducked her face into Robin’s chest.

Robin caught the mug from her other hand before she dumped it on him, and wrapped one arm carefully around her. Robin looked from Morgan’s head back to Chrom, and his eyes tightened. Chrom recognized that agonized look well.

 _Of all the times for them to walk in…_ Chrom rose instantly and walked to them, ignoring Lissa’s protest.

“I’m okay, Morgan,” he said. He gripped Morgan’s shoulder, and she turned cautiously beneath Robin’s arm. Chrom dredged up all the energy and alertness he could, hopingto remove that pained look from her face. “See? No lasting harm done.”

She looked up at him with those dark eyes, so much like Robin’s, and he wiped her tears from one cheek with his thumb. Morgan smiled faintly, her lip trembling. Her eyes avoided the wound.

Morgan hadn’t taken what happened yesterday well. Robin had reluctantly informed him that Morgan had rushed to his side when he had fallen, sobbing desperately, and refused to leave it until Chrom had awoken.

She was a very capable young woman most of the time, but Chrom was forcibly reminded that she was nowhere near as battle-hardened as he or Robin, or the other children. The Ylisseans had been in Valm for almost a year, and he had lost track of how many battles his army had fielded. Robin would probably know off-hand, but it wasn’t the time or place to ask.

Lissa stepped up and gently guided Chrom back to the bed, and Morgan followed, sitting cross-legged beside him and resting her cheek against his bicep. She closed her eyes and started humming a soft tune. It was something she did often, a calming technique she’d learned at some point in her past. The song sounded faintly Plegian in tonality – they tended toward minor keys, with simple but powerful melodies. The little melody always reminded him of Robin, perhaps because he was Plegian by birth. Chrom often wondered what Robin’s childhood had been like, but it seemed his memories were forever gone, wiped away by the Fell Dragon’s touch on his mind.

The thought of Robin being attacked by that doppelganger made his fist clench at his side.

Robin took a sip of coffee from one of the mugs, watching from near the door as Lissa called on her magic. The wound tingled with the healing, and Chrom fought the urge to wince. Chrom met Robin’s eyes over the distance, but Robin looked away first. Chrom stifled a sigh at the guilt displayed on Robin’s face; apparently, his request last night was already being disregarded.

“Just about… done,” Lissa said, and gently set her staff on the bed. Chrom looked down, pleased to see that the wound looked smaller and shallower. It was still tender to the touch, but definitely less sensitive than last night. Chrom knew it would continue to heal over the next few hours, as the magic enhanced his own natural healing abilities.

“We should keep it covered.” Lissa rose, her blond hair bobbing as she nodded. “Robin, do you have any bandages in here? I left my supplies in my tent.”

Robin blinked up at her and then seemed surprised to find two coffee mugs in his hands. He had gone somewhere far away for an instant, and Chrom looked on with concern.

“Oh, yes.” He handed one of the coffees to Chrom, who took the warm mug gratefully. It was chilly without a shirt on, even with the warmth from Morgan’s cloaked body pressed up against his arm. The coffee was wonderfully bitter and invigorating.

Lissa stood over Robin as he crouched, rooting around in a pack for a few seconds, and Chrom rested his cheek on Morgan’s pale pink hair. Robin and Lissa conversed quietly, about him, most likely, but he couldn’t bring himself to focus on it. If the years of battle beside Robin had taught him anything, it was that he could trust Robin to take care of things. It was that trust that kept him in this tent last night, recovering, rather than walking around camp.

“I’m sorry,” Morgan whispered against his shoulder, her eyes cast down at her knees. She twisted the oversized sleeve in one hand. “I wasn’t expecting it to be so…” Her hand fluttered toward his chest.

“I understand. There’s no need to apologize, Morg,” he said affectionately, but she didn’t look up. “Hey,” he said, and gently caught her chin. Those big deep eyes were filling with tears again, but she looked at him, and it seemed his words were calming her. “It’s okay. Lissa’s done a fine job patching me up.”

Morgan put on a forced smile, and Chrom knew where she had learned that habit. It made him a little sad, seeing that look on her face. When she rested her head against his arm, though, she seemed more relaxed.

When the future children started coming forward in Valm, Chrom had watched with a sense of growing loss. Owain had been the first, revealing himself asthe mysterious Marth. Nearly all of the couples within the Shepherds had children come forward – except for Chrom and Robin.

Chrom would never regret being with Robin – the man seemed to understand Chrom in a way that no one else ever would. As he’d told an embarrassed Robin several times over the nine months they’d been together, they were two halves of a whole, and there was no one else he would rather have at his side. Robin _completed_ him. But upon seeing the reunions between unknowing parents and their children, part of him wished for that joy. They hadn’t intended to adopt Morgan, but when the opportunity presented itself, he and Robin had jumped on it. She was practically their daughter before they made it official, anyway.

Morgan shifted out of the way as Lissa returned with the bandages, and Chrom handed his cup to the girl. Robin watched with a heavy look in his eyes, and when Lissa was done, Chrom gestured to his companion to come to his other side. Robin sat on the bed beside him, staring into his almost empty mug. Chrom pulled him in under his arm. The smaller man’s body was trembling.

“I’d better go see where my boys have gotten to,” Lissa said, gathering up her staff and stifling a yawn. With her pregnancy, she couldn’t drink coffee, so she was even less of a morning person than she had been before.

“They were in the dining tent a few minutes ago,” Robin provided.

After Lissa had gone, Chrom sat in silence with his small family. When he closed his eyes he could feel that tiredness in his bones. Tired of fighting, of the fear of what Plegia’s deceptive leader would do… and now, tired from the thought of facing off against Grima. For the first time since they’d discussed it last night, he thought ahead, to the Awakening.

Robin’s hand clutched tight at his, as if afraid he would drift away if he didn’t hold on tight.

“Lissa wants to heal you again this afternoon,” Robin said, finally breaking the silence. “She thinks it’ll be a scar by this time tomorrow.”

“Good.” Chrom was impressed by Lissa’s healing abilities. He recalled a faint snippet of conversation he’d caught in his half-conscious state – she’d said that his wound was resistant to her magic. If the magic had been from Grima, then that made sense.

His lover shifted out from beneath his arm, tilting his white-haired head. Robin’s eyes didn’t _quite_ meet his. “Everyone around camp is concerned for you. After breakfast, you should go talk with the others, make yourself seen.”

Chrom nodded. “Whatever you think is best.”

Robin’s eyebrows creased and his mouth twitched.

“Stop feeling guilty.” Chrom caught Robin’s left hand, unintentionally grinding the ring into his fingers. Robin’s eyes flew wide open at the pain, and Chrom regretted squeezing so hard, but he didn’t know what else to do to get this across to Robin. “What happened yesterday was _not_ your fault… and I _need_ you to be strong by my side – the sword at my side, and the wind at my back.” He didn’t feel bad for taking their vows and shoving them back in Robin’s surprised face, if it meant knocking him out of this guilt.

“But-”

“No,” Chrom interrupted him, relaxing his hand on Robin’s. Morgan raised her head from his shoulder, pulling away from the intense almost-argument between her parents. “We _promised_ , Robin, to always be there for each other. If you want my forgiveness for what happened, then I give it freely. But you need to let it go.” Mindful of Morgan beside him, he continued, “I need you to be with me, confident and unshaken, when we leave to go to the Awakening. Please, Robin.”

Robin’s eyes flicked back and forth across his face for an instant, faith and despair warring for dominance. Chrom saw the change in his dark eyes this time, the shift in his mind. Some of that tension left Robin’s body, and he nodded.

“You’re right. We need to stand strong together, against Grima.” Robin leaned in and pressed his lips against Chrom’s. The kiss was soft, chaste, dry, but somehow still full of that passion that Robin had offered so freely the night they confessed their feelings to each other. Chrom’s head swam as Robin pulled back an inch, giving him that smile that was just for Chrom. It made his chest tighten, and other parts besides, but Chrom remembered Morgan’s presence and resisted the draw of Robin’s lips.

Chrom raised their entwined fingers and brushed Robin’s soft cheek. “We should head out for breakfast.”

“You’ll need some clothing,” Robin said, and rose, his fingers lingering in Chrom’s for an instant before moving to one of the packs and pulling out a button-down shirt.

Morgan excused herself at that point, giving both of them a smile that Chrom thought was real. As soon as the flap stopped moving, Robin returned to Chrom and straddled his hips, capturing his mouth in a kiss that was anything but chaste. Robin’s hands glided over his chilled skin, bringing warmth and passion.

Chrom shifted at the same time Robin did, eager to get more of Robin’s skin against his own. Robin’s elbow ended up in his wound, and he cried out. It felt like he was being stabbed again, and his eyes filled with white streaks and tears for an instant.

“Oh gods, Chrom,” Robin hissed, sounding close to crying himself. “I’m sorry.”

Chrom hunched over his chest, all that built-up desire deflated and gone. His body was still sore, still tired, and it was too much. He clung to Robin’s body, pressing the side of his face against the soft material of his undershirt, and Robin put a hand on Chrom’s head. They stayed that way until most of the pain had subsided, Robin’s hand gently running through his hair.

“Later,” Chrom promised, blinking the tears from his eyes and looking up Robin’s body. “We will continue this later, after Lissa heals me again.”

Robin blinked, and then nodded. It wasn’t the first time they’d started something and been unable to complete it. It still left something lingering, unfinished, between them. Chrom regretted it, but he needed to let his body heal. That took precedence, and Robin knew that.

As they walked toward the dining tent, fully dressed, Robin’s fingers twined in his. His eyes were serious and determined, and Chrom heard the promise loud and clear, even though the words weren’t spoken aloud. _I’m with you._

~*~

Robin waited until after dinner to look at the one handwritten page he had been dreading.

_Stahl_

_Libra_

_Cherche_

Robin faced down the single sheet of paper, and then set it aside. He had known about each of the deaths, but seeing them all together made it even worse. Pain grew out of the numbness in his chest, and he hunched his shoulders.

He would never discuss Minerva’s potential mates with the red-haired Wyvern Lord again… never watch Libra bring artwork to life. A bitter smile touched Robin’s mouth as he thought about Stahl, who was always helping others, even when they didn’t realize it. The deceased had family, loved ones who would miss them dearly. His companions had died following his orders, and that put their blood on his hands, their deaths on his shoulders.

He rested his elbows on the table and scrubbed at his eyes, allowing himself a moment to grieve. Then, with some resistance, he tucked that grief away deep within himself. He couldn’t let the loss paralyze him. He had to keep fighting. He had promised Chrom that he would be “confident and unshaken” at his side. So he had to try, at least.

Robin felt strong hands on his shoulders, and he jumped before realizing it was Chrom. He hadn’t heard the tent flap, hadn’t noticed Chrom stomping around. He swiped at his eyes, embarrassed that Chrom had caught him crying, even though he had seen it many times before.

“I think you’ve done this long enough,” Chrom’s soft voice said in his ear. It puffed the long hairs around his ear, tickling him. Robin ducked away, chuckling in spite of his miserable mood. Chrom looped his arms around Robin’s shoulders, one hand gentle against his neck.

Robin leaned his head back on Chrom’s shoulder, certain that the angle of Chrom’s body meant he wouldn’t touch his sore wound. He rested his whole upper body against Chrom, letting go of the tension in his shoulders. Chrom pressed his mouth and nose into the crook of his neck, laying soft kisses there.

“Chrom,” he breathed, and his hand went to cup his lover’s face. Out of his right eye, he could see Chrom’s smile. The taller man’s hands ran down his front, beneath Robin’s cloak, which Morgan had brought back earlier. He removed the cloak, sliding it from Robin’s shoulders, and it spilled to the floor between them.

Chrom tugged gently on Robin’s hand, and pulled him to his feet. Those bright blue eyes, heavy with lust, set something low in Robin’s body alight. He angled his face up, and Chrom leaned down.

Their lips brushed together and then Robin slipped a tongue between them. Chrom met his tongue, and Robin sighed shakily, leaning further into Chrom’s kiss. The prince’s hands fell to the small of Robin’s back, fingers gently and distractingly rubbing in lazy circles against the fabric. He slipped the shirt up, exposing bare skin, and then his fingers slid down the back of Robin’s pants.

Robin let go of all his dark, brooding thoughts, and lost himself in Chrom’s carnal desires. He needed this, more than he realized… and their failed attempt hours ago had been a subtle nagging itch in the back of his mind.

Chrom backed Robin up toward the bed, still exchanging kisses and soft murmurs, and then Chrom’s thigh split Robin’s legs slightly, and brushed against his crotch.

“Mm-ahh,” Robin moaned into Chrom’s lips, and one hand slid down to Chrom’s ass, cupping it. Even after months of being together, Chrom could still do things to Robin that had him melting, easing into his embrace like that first night.

Chrom laid him on the bed and removed all his clothing, his feet hanging down to the tent floor, bare toes brushing the cold grass. Robin sat up and worked the buttons of Chrom’s shirt, glad for once that the prince wasn’t wearing his usual attire. When he opened the crisp blue shirt, he ran his fingers along Chrom’s chest, careful to avoid the square bandage in the center. He felt only a twinge of pain at the reminder, most of his mind absorbed in pleasure.

Breathing heavily, Chrom slid his body between Robin’s legs, fingers running through Robin’s white hair. Robin felt that erection pressed alongside his own, and it made a pulse of excitement rush from his dick up through his body, warm like sunlight.

Chrom reached for a small glass bottle and handed it to Robin, who poured some of the lubricant on his fingers. He touched Chrom’s dick with the cold liquid, and the larger man shut his eyes and hissed. But as Robin’s fingers spread the lube around, gently stroking up and down, that sound quickly turned to pleasure.

Chrom took some of the substance and reached down with a finger, teasing at Robin’s asshole. Robin tensed against the chill and then forced himself to relax. Chrom leaned down and kissed Robin’s neck, then found a spot and started sucking. Robin exhaled and his hips shifted up with excitement – it had been too long since Chrom had last marked him, and he loved it. With Chrom’s fingers sliding into his ass and his mouth on his skin, Robin felt elemental, alive. The only parts of him that mattered were the parts where Chrom was touching him.

Robin removed his hand from Chrom’s cock when Chrom removed his fingers from his asshole, and Chrom gripped his hips. The first thrust was a bit uncomfortable, and Robin closed his eyes against Chrom’s eager push. Chrom eased back for a moment, waiting until Robin nodded for him to continue. His hand reached down to Robin’s cock and knuckles brushed against it, but he didn’t wrap his fingers around it until he was fully sheathed.

They paused, breathless, and then Robin gave the signal for Chrom to continue. On the next thrust, Chrom angled up into that little node of sensation, and Robin whined softly in his throat. His cock felt so hard between their bodies, and he ran his hands down Chrom’s back, fighting the urge to dig his nails in.

With the next thrust, Chrom found his rhythm, and Robin’s cries grew steadily louder, until he had to grab a pillow to muffle them. Chrom gripped Robin’s dick and moved his hand in time with his own thrusts. Robin could feel that heady rush rising around him, his body twitching with anticipation. With one hand he gripped Chrom’s balancing forearm, feeling the silky muscles shifting beneath that heated skin.

Then Chrom slowed, and Robin looked up with a question in his eyes. Robin ran his hands along the smooth muscles and sinew on his lover’s arms, and Chrom retreated from Robin’s body. Robin sat up, impatient and needy, and Chrom caught his hips, shifting them fully onto the bed. He turned Robin over, onto his hands and knees, and his cock pressed against Robin’s rear.

Robin sighed with arousal, and braced his hands, peering back over his shoulder at Chrom. When the prince didn’t immediately thrust in, Robin ground his ass back against him.

Chrom grunted, and gripped Robin’s hips, holding him forward.

“Gods, Chrom,” Robin whispered, “What are you waiting for?”

Chrom smiled, and it was a predatory thing.

Robin shifted back against him again, and Chrom held on, not letting him gain that penetration he craved.

“Please,” Robin moaned, bunching the sheets in his hands. “Please, Chrom, ple-ahhh!”

Chrom grabbed his hips and thrust forward sharply. Robin cried out and Chrom grunted at the tightness. With firm, strong strokes, Chrom brought Robin to the edge of that delicious wave, the edges of his vision sparkling with it. He increased his thrusting into Robin, hand in sync with his hips, and Robin buried his cries in the pillow as he came. That wave crashed over him, setting every nerve afire, tingling with delightful sensation.

With a loud groan, Chrom came as well, his thrusting faltering for a moment.

Robin rested beneath Chrom’s arm in the afterglow, his eyes drifting shut in spite of himself. Chrom cuddled him closer and his breath was soothing against Robin’s neck.

When Chrom was fast asleep, Robin slipped out from beneath his arm, and stood over him for a few moments. He snored, faintly, and Robin smiled, even as tears filled his eyes. He had promised Chrom he would be beside him, and that he would stop doubting himself.

Robin returned to his maps and plans a little regretfully. He wanted to stay in the comfort of Chrom’s arms, but there was work to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter took so long because I've been having some family drama that has made it difficult to write anything with plot. (Read - I've been writing lots of smut to share with you in the near future). Next Chapter out in 2 weeks (around September 8th) - I should be able to get it done in that timeframe. 
> 
> I edited this with a migraine so please feel free to point out any errors. I think I caught most of them but I’m not feeling my best today…
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this, and please let me know what you thought!

**Author's Note:**

> A big thanks to Ellisama, who helped me brainstorm what exactly happened in the original “doomed” timeline, and came up with the idea of adopted Morgan. 
> 
> And also, this whole series wouldn’t have come into existence if it weren’t for Blue’s artblog… falloutblu.tumblr.com :)
> 
> Next chapter up in about 2 weeks (or sooner). Also, I’ve got most of Morgan’s "backstory" written out, so I’ll probably post that as a separate short at some point. I'll put estimate upload dates in my AO3 profile, and I update those fairly regularly.
> 
> Edited to add (because apparently my brain doesn't work too well at midnight) - the quotes at the beginning of the chapters are going to be from the song Immortals by Fall Out Boy. It's particularly fitting for this story. :) 
> 
> Please let me know what you think, and as always thank you for reading!


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